#but people are being dumb and it's really annoying

[factsilike]

One of the things I very much hate about modern AUs in MDZS is how the fic writers Americanise everything about the characters until the only thing Asian about them is their name.

[couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name]

thoughts on the wicked movie?

oh I am preparing for that like one would prepare for a battle lmfao. wicked has never been my favorite show, but it is extremely good, and I honestly don't know how this movie is gonna go 😭

I'm mixed on the cast- ariana is super talented, but 1) she's worryingly unhealthy and It Shows in the trailers, and 2) quite frankly I still think the role should have gone to dove cameron. cynthia's out of this world but 1) she's a bit old for the role, which is fine, but a lot of times I find adults playing teens and twenty somethings very...unbearable (sorry kimberly akimbo 😔) so I worry it could turn into a green evan hansen movie moment and 2) honestly she really did annoy me with that meltdown over the fan edited poster lmfao like I still love her but it's hard not to cringe now lol. jonathan bailey has a beautiful voice and will kill it! ethan slater I think will actually have a little breakout moment and the public opinion on him will sway. I don't mind bowen yang but I also don't understand why he's there. goldblum, yeoh, and dinklage can do no wrong. idk anything about the girl playing nessa but honestly nessa sucks so I don't mind going in blind on her lol.

I think it's dumb as hell that it's being split into two movies- I know that's the general opinion of everyone, but it still needs to be said. the only good songs in act 2 are 'as long as you're mine' and 'for good'. there's not enough to entice people who aren't already diehard fans to come back for more- and like, the first rule of adaptation is to assume the audience isn't familiar with the source material. so I PROPOSE. that the best way to drum up excitement for part 2. is making glinda and elphaba's feelings for each other explicit instead of subtext. I think jon m. chu WOULD do it, but I don't know if the studio and producers would allow it. we shall See. but that's my big prediction for the movie.

I'm also mixed on jon m chu directing because like. listen I love that he did in the heights and had like a huge delayed theater kid awakening moment I really do love that for him. and in the heights WAS a great movie- but a lot of the changes that were made really bugged me lmao. not all of them, but a lot of them. and obviously, since he's dragging it into two movies, changes will be made. theoretically they could just add a bunch of stuff from the book, but like, if they make cuts from the already solid stage story to add in completely new characters and plotlines (like they did for in the heights) I just! don't know that I'll like that sorry

plus the fact alone that they've been trying to make this movie for 20 years like. it has a HUGE shadow to outshine and I Hope it'll pull it off but I don't know that I'm confident it will?

all that being said I WILL be seated in a theater recliner seat wearing pink and green and drinking a cocktail. this is like the superbowl okay.

[rikosseen]

Taehoon Seong x Reader: Day trip

Anon request

Taehoon really thought that amongst the most annoying people he’s ever known, Hobin was unmatchable. However, as he’s sitting at the back of the van with you sleeping soundly on his shoulder, Dabin is mockingly making kissy faces while Minji is suppressing her giggles. Worse still, the dads are completely indifferent to the spectacle—in fact, they’re encouraging Dabin. And Taehoon swears he sees his own old man grinning like a monster.

Fuck.

What he wants to do more than anything right now, is to kick their smug faces. But he can’t really do that- with you next to him, and with how cramped it is.

Dabin is cackling at how Taehoon’s eyes are bulging out of his eye sockets, and she can’t help feeling amused when he stiffens as you stir in your sleep.

.

The campsite overlooks a valley of mountains, and in usual circumstances, the view would have been enough to relax just about anyone. That’s unfortunately not the case for Taehoon. Even on a day where he’s meant to be enjoying himself, the man can feel nothing but irritation and anger. Why did he agree to tag along on this trip again? Who’s dumb ass thought this was a good idea?

Fuck. That’s right. You. You did.

Taehoon watches you in betrayal as Dabin and Minji get all up in your personal space, giggling about who knows what. You’re playfully slapping them, and pinching their cheeks, snickering along.

That should be me.

The girls are doing nothing to help. He’s the only one carrying wood. He’s the only one putting up the tents.

Lazy bastards. -Thoughts not directed toward you, of course.

As Taehoon slams the wood he’s been carrying on the ground, Dabin catches his eye, and a devilish smirk forms on her lips. She’s tugging you at the waist while putting up her middle finger. Couldn’t be you, she mouths.

And a vein pulses on Taehoon’s face. He brushes his hands, and begins stomping toward you three. When he reaches where you are, he slaps Dabin away from you, protectively pulling you by his side. Dabin, being the absolute unit that she is, shoves Taehoon aside, and takes your free arm. The two begin to banter, playing tug of war, and you swear your arm is about to rip off.

“How dare you push a woman?!” Dabin snaps.

“Equal rights, equal fights, bitch,” Taehoon sneers.

“You think you own her? Asshole”

“I didn’t say that, dipshit.”

“This shit’s never gonna happen. Me and them would make a better couple anyway,” Dabin is furiously grasping onto Taehoon’s expression like it’s her only source of entertainment.

“What the fuck did you say?”

Before they can continue arguing, Minji steps in to pull you away from the two.

“C’mon, stop riling him up,” she says, giving Dabin a disapproving look.

.

Later that night, as everyone gathers around the campfire to toast marshmallows, Taehoon finally musters the courage to step away and retrieve a gift he’s been saving for you all day, despite his nervousness that you might not like it. But when he returns, he finds Dabin has taken his spot, wrapping her arms around you with a triumphant grin. She sees him approaching and sticks her tongue out mockingly.

This bitch.

[library-ghoulette]

day 21 // somno & feral/primal

Prompt list thanks to @kroas-adtam 💜

Pairing: Phantom x reader

Rating: Explicit, minors DNI

Words: 2323

Tags: noncon/extremely dubious consent, female reader, masturbation, somnophilia, heat/breeding cycles, feral ghouls, rough sex, demon sex, coming inside

Summary: A new Sister of Sin, you learn the hard way why you're supposed to keep your window locked tight during ghoul mating season.

A/N: Please note the updated tags and warnings for this one! I feel like Phantom frequently gets the cinnamon roll treatment, so I wanted to write him being not so sweet.

You can also read this--and all my other fics--on ao3!

You expected that there might be a learning curve, when you ran away from your old life to begin a new one in the service of Satan. But you hadn't expected there to be so goddamn many rules.

You were expected to follow orders immediately and without question. Make your bed and say your morning prayers. Report for your duties precisely on time. Maintain perfect attendance at your religious education classes. The Abbey ran like clockwork under the meticulous care of its prioress, the intimidating Sister Imperator, and her word was law, not to be questioned.

Even when the rules seemed overbearing or nonsensical, you were expected to bite back anything other than, "Yes, Sister."

Luckily you had your fallen angel—the older, more experienced Sister assigned to guide your transition from your old life to your new one—and you could grill her all you wanted. Much to her occasional chagrin.

Like now, as you troop up the stairs to your cells after dinner, and in the midst of her almost daily reiterations of the rules, she adds a new one: "Make sure that you keep your door and window locked after curfew, starting tonight."

It's annoying enough that you're subjected to a curfew—you're not a child, and when are all of these supposed Sisters of Sin supposed to be sinning?—but the window thing really annoys you. The rooms are musty and old, and you've gotten into the habit, now that the Spring weather has turned warmer, of sleeping with your window open to let in some fresh air.

"Why do we have to keep our windows locked?" you ask. "We live on the third floor. No one's going to get in without a ladder… or wings."

Your fallen angel regards you seriously. "It's mating season."

"Well, I don't think any wild animals are making it up to our rooms, either—"

"For ghouls," she cuts you off. "They go into rut every Spring. And when they do, they're dangerous. Territorial, unpredictable… and horny. Well, hornier."

"…oh."

You haven't had many interactions with the ghouls. You haven't been at the Abbey that long, and the ghouls are… Well, they're a bit insular, a bit set apart from most of the humans who live and work here. They tend to run as a pack, their bond to one another so strong that they seemingly communicate without words.

They're a strange mix of unnerving and captivating, but you suppose that's true of any group of preternaturally attractive people with a better than you vibe. Even if they are demons, they don't seem particularly dangerous.

Especially not the one you've seen in the halls a few times now, with his slight stature and tumble of dark hair that always seems to be hanging in front of one violet eye. The one who caught you looking and gave you a small, shy wave in return. Phantom, you think his name is? In any case, you can't imagine him being dangerous.

Your fallen angel seems to read your thoughts, or perhaps just the disbelief written across your face. With the weary air of someone who's had to explain this exact thing to many dumb postulants before you, she says, "You haven't seen them in their true form. They're different when they're in rut. Even the older ones have trouble maintaining control over themselves, and the younger ones are downright volatile."

You've reached your twin doors—your cells connect with a shared bathroom in the middle—and she pauses with a sigh, searching for the right words.

"People have been injured before," she says, holding your gaze and wringing her hands. "Just… don't risk it, okay?"

"Okay," you agree.

"Good. Now, lock your window, and sleep tight. I'll be right here if you need me."

The soreness and exhaustion hit you as soon as you're alone in your cell. Your body is as unaccustomed to the grueling pace of the called life as is your mind, and by the end of each day, all you want to do is to fall face-first into bed and sleep for a week.

You shower, letting the hot water soothe both your mental and physical pains. When you emerge from the bathroom, waving steam out of the air as you go, your eyes fall on your window. Surely it can't hurt to open it for just a little while…

There, that feels immediately better. The breeze is warm and fills your plain little room with the freshness of Spring, the verdant scent of growing things and the world waking up. You stand in front of the window, breathing in the delicate perfume of the cherry trees that have only this week burst into full bloom, toweling you hair dry.

It's not exactly curfew yet—at least, you don't think it is—so you leave the window open as you cross to your dresser and pull out your favorite silky little nightgown. The fabric skims deliciously over your bare skin as you slip it over your head.

You lie back on your bed without bothering to pull back the comforter. You haven't forgotten about your fallen angel's warning—if anything, it keeps playing over and over in your mind. You keep thinking about her description of the ghouls, of how they become territorial, unpredictable, horny.

You try to imagine what Phantom, who seems so sweet, would be like, transformed into an insatiable… fuckbeast, you guess. The word makes you giggle at yourself, but the image it conjures unspools warmth low in your belly.

You trail your hands down your body, skimming over your hardened nipples under the silky fabric, and part your own thighs to slide your fingers between your folds. You find yourself slick with arousal, and it doesn't take much work, rubbing your clit in just the way you like, to get yourself off. As you come you imagine Phantom, skilled hands gripping your hips as he drives into you, peering down at you with pleasure and amusement as you fall apart around his cock.

You're sleepy when you come down from your orgasm, and in the haze of tiredness and dreamy afterglow, you pull the covers up over yourself and drift away, forgetting your open window completely…

You wake to the unmistakable pressure of an unfamiliar weight at the foot of your bed. Even without opening your eyes, you know you are being watched—you can feel the rake of some inhuman gaze on your skin. You feel it as surely as you hear the panting, each rough exhalation of breath as whatever this is… What is it doing?

You risk cracking your eyes open just a bit, just enough to peer from between your lashes at the intruder. At first you think you're hallucinating, imagining that a dark shadow is something solid. But as you wake up more fully and your eyes adjust, you discern form. You notice the swirling purple energy, the pinpricks of light that twinkle like distant stars all along the humanoid form.

You discern the cords of lean, strong muscle that run down its arms—and you follow that working line of muscle down, to where the creature is stroking itself with one hand, frantically pumping its fist up and down over its— oh God, over its cock. You can't make out the details in the gloom, but you can tell that it's huge.

You let out an involuntary whimper, and at the sound, the creature's eyes latch onto yours in a flash of violet eyeshine. You squeeze your lids shut again and bite your lip to silence yourself, even as you feel the creature grab your comforter in a clawed fist and the bedsheets begin to slowly but inexorably creep down your body, exposing your bare shoulders, your breasts…

Your fear screams at you to run, but another voice inside of you tells you to lie still, whispers that running is pointless. How far do you even think you would get, because the monster catches you and does whatever it wants to you?

You struggle to keep your breathing even, to remain calm, even as the protection of the covers is stripped away, even as the creature bends down low over your leg and you feel the crackle of energy along your bare calf as it… as it sniffs you, inhaling your scent.

Apparently it likes what it smells, because sharp claws grip your thighs, digging into the soft skin, and the creature presses its face against your center, breathing you in through the thin fabric of your nightgown.

Its touch is electric, its breath hot against your flesh, and in spite of your terror—or because of it?—you feel your cunt clench with arousal. You're even wetter than you were earlier, imagining Phantom creeping into your room, desperate with need…

Wait. You crack open your eyelids again, enough to take in the snuffling form crouched over your body. Despite the horns and the claws—and the skin made out of space, you guess?—there is something familiar in the creature. Something about that flash of purple in its eyes… Yes. Even though it seems unbelievable, you know with absolute certainty that this monster, this demon, is the same boy from the hall, the one who waved at you, with that sweet, self-conscious half-smile before turning away.

He's not shy now, not turning away, as he wrenches your thighs apart and licks a broad stripe up your cunt with his long, forked tongue. It's animalistic, less concerned with your pleasure than with wallowing in your pheromones, but nonetheless a whiplash of pleasure cracks through you. It's hard to hold still, to keep from moaning aloud as he licks you again and again, rutting against the mattress with each stroke of his tongue.

Finally he wrenches away from your pussy and crawls up your body, pawing at you with careless claws that sting deliciously as they draw blood. He brings his face to the side of your neck, almost like a human lover would to kiss you in the midst of passion, but he only grazes his fangs against your skin and breathes in your scent.

For a panic-stricken moment you fear he might tear out your throat, but he only emits a low, rumbling growl before wrenching away from you. And then, with shocking strength, he flips you over onto your stomach and tears away your nightgown, leaving you exposed.

If you had any questions about what would happen next, they're answered swiftly when he presses the head of his cock against your entrance. Even as wet as you are, dripping both with your own arousal and his thick saliva, the size is intimidating. Helpless to escape—and, you admit shamefully, no longer that interested in trying—you angle your hips up to accommodate him as best you can.

Somehow, the bulbous crown of his cock breaches your body's resistance and he fills you. You let out a gasp at the stretch, more than you've ever taken before, and try to adjust to the overwhelming pressure of him inside you.

But he isn't finished. You realize with horror that you've only taken his tip, as he works more of his length into you. There is nothing human about his cock, and your body thrills at the alien sensation of each ridge and bulb that drags along your inner walls, hitting spots you barely knew you had.

Finally, he bottoms out with a grunt, and you have a moment of relief that there is no more to take.

That moment ends when he begins to move.

He sets a relentless pace, pounding into you with a ferocity you've never felt before. He holds you down and presses you into the mattress as he uses your body. You can no longer remain quiet, helpless to keep in your cries, but the creature, the nightmare, atop you is oblivious, lost in his own pleasure and in his desperate need to mate.

You teeter at the razor-thin edge between pleasure and pain, barely knowing which one you're feeling until he hits something inside of you just right and everything comes together as you begin to fall apart, your pussy spasming around him and driving him over the edge of his own orgasm. He growls and digs his claws into your hips even harder, and his cock kicks inside of you, his spend filling and overfilling you. You can feel it, thick and warm, spilling out of you and coating your thighs, just before the full crest of your orgasm overtakes you, and everything fades to gray…

When you wake up again, it's to the morning sunlight filling your room and the sound of birdsong streaming in through the window. The open window.

You curse, and for a split second you remember the intense dream you had the night before. But as soon as you move and feel the spasm of soreness throughout your lower body, you know it wasn't a dream. You roll over carefully and reach down, investigating your swollen pussy with tentative fingers. You're still slicked with cum—you say a little prayer of thanks that you take your birth control religiously—and it's dried all along your inner thighs, which are also covered in scratches. As is—fuck—the rest of your body.

You flop back onto your pillow with a disbelieving little laugh. Well. You guess your fallen angel wasn't exaggerating the threat after all. You're a complete mess.

And it was the best sex you've ever had in your life.

You stumble toward the bathroom, stopping on the way to slide your window shut and lock it carefully. Even now you know that last night won't be the last time you conveniently forget to close it before bed.

But… maybe not every night, not until summer has come and mating season is over. You have to get some rest, after all.

[befehlvonganzunten]

All Quiet on the Western Front is NOT a war film … or is it?

DISCLAIMER: I’m German and I’m beyond happy with the Everything Everywhere All at Once sweep (except that Stephanie Hsu should’ve won Best Supporting Actress), so this isn't me being bitter about All Quiet on the Western Front not winning Best Picture. What I am bitter about is people throwing around the term "war film" without knowing what a "war film" is or what the term actually means.

Also: I am very aware that I’m probably arguing with a wall here because this is the internet but this bothers me for some reason, so here we go. 

.

.

.

If you want to argue that a war film is a film that depicts war, then yes, All Quiet is indeed a war film. After all, it is set during World War I and abundant with battle sequences. Soldiers are dying left and right by the sheer brutality of early 20th-century war technology and trench warfare, and we follow a rather young recruit who has no considerable military experience by the time he joins the fighting.

However, not all war films are the same - shocker, I know. They can be pro-war, anti-war or even something in-between (see Apocalypse Now for example). The war film genre also has tons of subgenres like the retaliation film, the military (black) comedy, or the recruitment film. Arguing that All Quiet is a war film as in it’s a pro-war film because I don't know how genres work or, you know, because I don't care about the book this film is based on would be kinda stupid, if not outrageously ignorant. Its source material, the novel of the same name, is considered one of the most important pieces of anti-war literature of all time, written by a man who actually fought in World War I and therefore knew what he was talking about. (The novel was also banned and later burned during the Nazi book burnings in 1933, and Erich Maria Remarque, the author, fled the country to avoid further persecution while his sister stayed behind and was eventually executed for opposing the Nazi government in the early 1940s.)

Pro-war means that a war film depicts war as a black and white adventure where there are inherently good guys on one side and inherently bad guys on the other. The good guys have to win and the bad guys have to lose, and people who think that war is bad either don’t exist or have barely any screen time because God forbid the voice of reason is actually given - well - a voice. Bootcamp turns boys into "manly men" who can fight an entire army on their own. From a technical standpoint, the battle scenes are designed as an audiovisual spectacle that is supposed to make you feel excited, not horrified by the way in which the military machine can destroy bodies and nature alike. It is a very simple form of propaganda escapism that can easily bleed into other genres such as fantasy, science-fiction or superhero films, and you should rightfully hate it with a passion.

Anti-war, on the other hand, means that a war film depicts war as hell on earth, which it is. Nobody wins here. Soldiers are used as canon fodder and nine times out of ten neither the government nor the military elite of either war party really give a fuck. Bootcamp is a complete joke and, in its essence, torture. Young recruits are sucked into the slaughter thanks to lies and propaganda, and they are quickly disillusioned by the horrors they experience on the battlefield. The spectacle of war - the battle sequence - is meant to leave you horrified, disturbed and disgusted by what war forces people to do to each other. It’s the very core element of films/novels like All Quiet and the very opposite of  propaganda escapism.

.

.

.

CONCLUSION: All Quiet on the Western Front is a war film that depicts war from an anti-war perspective, which makes it an anti-war film. It is based on a novel written by a man who was persecuted by the fucking Nazis. With this in mind (and I promise you that you can research all of this within minutes), it is absolute bonkers to me how some people can look at such a complex genre and reduce it to "bang boom bang explosion war films" without batting an eye.

In my personal opinion, All Quiet is by no means perfect. It’s a decent adaptation of its source material, and while I prefer the 1930 adaptation, I can see why this one was nominated for 9 categories. I’m a little disappointed that An Cailín Ciúin didn’t win Best International Feature Film, but it is what it is. Hopefully, now that I have managed to get this off my chest, I can go back to rewatching Best Picture Winner Everything Everywhere All at Once in peace.

[royalarchivist]

Everyone this week: *lore, conspiracy theories, long conversations with Cucurucho, multiple attempts to summon the Binary Monster*

Spreen when lore:

[nekropsii]

RUFIOH PROPAGANDA: Literally everything he has ever done to and about Damara - cheating on her and lying to her for years, seemingly never standing up for her when Meenah was terrorizing her, still chasing her image as a sex object to this day (particularly Aradiabot, who he says acts “just like the real thing”), and calling her his “psycho ex” behind her back constantly while acting nice to her face.

KANKRI PROPAGANDA: Straight up doesn’t think Misogyny is real and denies its existence outright, calling it a meaningless pseudoscience not worth any concern, discussion, or consideration. Slutshames Porrim directly to her face.

[fujii-draws]

OKAY! Chatot rant in tags below! Read at your own discretion.

[kerfuffleddingus]

I am having thoughts about the canary curse.

So canaries. We’ve all seen the posts. There’s a few that stand out to me, one being that the canaries didn’t actually die (or weren’t supposed to) . The guy that devised the canary method ( John Haldane ) was concerned for the birds welfare, so they had a little machine to revive the bird once it fell over/ stoped singing.

This is what’s happening for the first few deaths in the life series. Everyone’s being revived at this point, no one’s actually dying, but…. No one’s leaving the fucking coal mine.

A key point in using a canary in the first place is that it warns you, tells you hey this place is dangerous stop going!

They keep going.

Jim’s death each season (sans secret life) is the turning point because he’s the first one to permadie.

He’s not the warning. He’s the result of ignoring it.

[thatscarletflycatcher]

Had to break it to my sister (twelve years older than me) that she herself is an early millennial/late Gen X, that our brother is a Millennial as well, and that those "twenty-something interns" she sees at work are not Millennials (derogatory).

[winepresswrath]

hi! i always love your MDZS/CQL takes; can i ask what are the questions you think CQL is asking, as compared to MDZS?

I haven't actually revisited either canon in ages, which is making me nervous. what questions the novel is interested in can be pretty contentious all on its own! @mikkeneko has an excellent answer in the notes here which I reccomend to everyone. My own thoughts are honestly pretty scattered- I keep on deleting things and going hm, that's not quite right.

So, for the obvious-to-me example, people reasonably zero in on the creation of innocent doctors/radish farmers who Wen Ruohan is holding hostage. In CQL it's easy to infer that Wen Qing and Wen Ning are maybe the only cultivators and almost certainly the only combatants among the Wen remnants, and their status is much more ambiguous in the novel, which I personally think is asking, essentially, "and so what? were they wrong to run, when they had a chance? Do they deserve what Jin Guangshan will do to them if they go back? Aren't they just people, actually?" Whereas the question that CQL is asking is more to the effect of "What does Wen Qing owe these people, when she is their only defence? What is she entitled to do to save them, at other people's expense? If she fucks up that moral calculus, what then? Does it matter if she's personally fond of some of the outsiders who are going to get hurt? If one of them saved her brother? Later, this question will flip to what Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng, and the parallel to Jiang Cheng's situation in particular is, I think, genuinely pretty fun. You're giving up the Wen as soldiers who've laid down their arms in exchange for Wen Qing also grappling with leadership and the question of how many horrors she can stand to look the other way on to protect her own people. one reason I keep deleting so much is that a lot cql's changes were motivated at least in part by censorship, which I think we mostly share a general and justified distaste for! but I also think that within the bounds of that censorship the creative team put a lot of work into actually doing something interesting with those changes. Or, for another example- nieyao! There's a much greater emphasis on the nmj-jgy relationship, it's unambiguously very close and they are clearly extremely important to one another, and I think that's because the cql team has a lot to say about love, trust, power, and the ways those things interact, and that reflects back on all of the other relationships in play, including Wangxian. Almost every time, when CQL chooses change a relationship they make the characters in question closer- that's true for Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji, for Wen Qing and the Yunmeng contingent, for Zixuan and Mianmian, and Huaisang and Meng Yao. It's even true for Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian, who have a close and trusting relationship in first life! CQL puts a much greater emphasis on "all right, so you care, what next?" How do you choose someone and then choose to be good to them? What if there's a massive power disparity between you? What if you seriously disagree about your priorities and morals? How do you trust someone who's betrayed you? When is it a stupid choice to trust at all? How do you have faith that you know someone well enough for that trust to be meaningful?

for legal reasons i would like to specify that it's not that mdzs isn't interested in these problems. i do remember wangxian's literal trust fall. cql is asking these questions all the time about everyone. also for legal purposes i'm not suggesting that cql lwj and jc love each other. but! they establish a three month wartime partnership looking for wwx and then jc immediately drops him on wwx's say-so despite apparently having a positive enough opinion of him to tell wwx he thinks they should make up twice. lan wangji will later tell wwx he thinks he should loop jc in on the second flautist! these are people trying to navigate some kind of relationship/shared interest/community, as opposed to a hateful void. cql wants to say hey, how do you go about this? while I'm here and rambling cql also puts a lot of emphasis on wwx's connection to yunmeng and changes things up so instead of feeling alienated right before he leaves our last glimpse of him there is happily picking lotuses and playing with a kid! in both stories the narrative is asking who do you protect? who do you leave behind? can you ever get it back? but the angles are very different.

[soupinaboot]

Steve got the Cat Valentine treatment from the fandom. 😐

[gogodollie]

I think a lot about how Sister’s story is told by everyone but her. Through Nihil’s songs, through Cardi’s song, from the Resurrection and Reverence collection to all of the music videos, it’s never from her which feels like it should be a big deal. Sister Imperator is supposed to be read as this mysterious figure that nobody quite understands (at least according to the metal myths losers) and that people still aren’t really sure what the hell she was up to before Nihil came around. She makes a few comments but they’re all very tame and don’t actually offer any information on her feelings or thoughts towards what has happened (i.e. relationship with nihil dumbed down to “I had his balls” and other shit like that)

Today I was thinking about RHRN at work and the Mary on a Cross sequence, which when first watching I had assumed would be a cutaway that Imperator led- there’s a Scooby-Doo tape tucked somewhere under the tv set and it really seemed like the perfect chance to tie it in. Obviously the film doesn’t do that which I think is lame because the tragedy there??? Imperator finally “recounting” her side of the story that’s been lost for however long, left to Nihil and Cardi to retell and basically made a spectacle after MOAC blew up. I know Sister is technically still alive or at least isn’t gone for good but for her to have that sort of closure before dying would’ve been really impactful methinks.

[faunandfloraas]

i do still periodically remember that post on twt that had far too many likes talking about how fnf is def a song about romance, chan was lying for pretending it was about australia and i still start squinting into space because how fucking stupid could all 500 of you be

[daisyachain]

If I had a nickel for every time I saw a romantic interpretation of a pair of male characters where the smaller, weaker, younger, less composed of the two was portrayed as a transmasculine character. I.

[smile-files]

oh yeah i watched the new ii and it was pretty wack. my only two thoughts are

i love cabby

they had to neutralize clover?????? hello?????????